


i try to walk away and i stumble

by buries



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-03
Updated: 2012-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-15 13:08:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/527657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buries/pseuds/buries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>quit sending photos. makes me miss you a hell of a lot more.</i> or the one where caroline doesn’t simply let tyler slip from her hands like water this time; she goes after him. post 3x12, au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i try to walk away and i stumble

**Author's Note:**

> post 3x12 the ties that bind, au. title is from macy gray's _i try_. written to the prompt _the moon is full here every night_. i wanted some closure on the tyler biting caroline incident, as well as caroline's involvement - or not involvement - in some of the big things occurring around her.
> 
> caroline's texts include everything meant to be capitalised capitalised while tyler's do not.

` Please don’t shut me out, Tyler. `

*

At least he calls her before he takes off this time. Him leaving before, with no word, not even a text to say ‘brb’, it stung more than Caroline ever would’ve liked to admit. Friends don’t just leave friends lying in the dust; lovers don’t leave lovers to fend for themselves when it comes to the avalanche of feelings - from guilt to betrayal to anger.

“I’m going to come back when I’m fixed,” he says, and she can picture his face in her mind, how it must be on the other end of the line; soft, apologetic, _hopeful_. “I promise, Caroline.”

“But you’re not _broken_ , Tyler,” she says, frowning. She looks at herself in her mirror, seeing the lack of wrinkles she’s going to have twenty, fifty, even eighty years from now. Her hand flutters to her collarbone, the skin there isn’t broken anymore. Her wrist is bare of any bracelets - expensive or charmed. “You can stay here and break the sire bond.”

He sighs, not in exasperation, but probably because she just doesn’t get it. She does. She has since the moment she ripped a boy’s throat out at the school carnival. “I’m a danger to everyone. I can’t control myself.”

“Yes, you can,” she interrupts quickly. “You can do anything you want, Tyler. _Here_. My dad -”

“Is in the hospital because of me,” he sounds tired all of a sudden, like the years of life he’s gained by Klaus snapping his neck in the school gym have aged him a few years. He hasn’t even lived, and yet, here he is, trying to fix something that isn’t broken. He hasn’t had time to properly break yet. “I don’t want to do that to _anyone_. I don’t want to hurt you any more.”

“I’m not hurt -”

“I _bit_ you. I didn’t want to, and I said no, but I still did. It’s a problem, Caroline. I’m going to fix it so I can be in control of myself.”

She exhales through her nose, a huffy sort of thing to show she’s not exactly happy, but she’s biting her tongue to say so. He knows. He knows her better than Elena and Bonnie know her, and that’s all because he took the time to ask her how she was, what she’s thinking about, whether or not she’s done pretending to be this pillar of strength when all she wants to do is crumble. “I don’t want you to leave again,” she says, quietly. She sits at her mirror and looks down at the vanity. “You can do this here. You should do this here.”

“I don’t want to,” he says. “It’s better for everyone if I’m far away from them and Klaus. He can’t control me if I’m not there.”

He has a point, though. At the end of the day, Tyler knows what’s best for himself. “At least take a book to read. And you need to text me every day. _Every day_ , Tyler.”

*

` got here as safe as can be. not sure about the locals’ safety yet. miss you. `

*

Caroline’s tied to her phone, just like Elena’s tied to the Salvatores. She’s never without it; it’s in her pocket, it’s in her bag, it’s in her hand. During cheerleading practice, it’s sitting nestled in her shoe before Bonnie advises her that maybe that’s not the best place to put it. If she wants it not to break, that is. 

After practice, Bonnie pulls her aside with her palm curling inside the crook of her elbow. “Sit,” she says, gesturing to the second row of bleaches. Caroline does as Bonnie suggests, sitting down, her knees bumping together. 

They watch as the girls collect their things, picking up the phones, and bumping shoulders as they walk to the change rooms. Caroline’s eyes are focused on a point to the far left of them, something behind the cars parked near the field and the trees lining the property next door has her attention. They sit in silence for what feels like hours.

“Earth to Caroline,” Bonnie sounds amused, waving her hand in front of her face. She’s smiling, but Caroline knows she’s annoyed. Bonnie’s always annoyed at being overlooked these days. She gets it, too. She used to be that person.

“Sorry,” she shakes her head, flustered, and struggles to figure out where to place her phone. She rests it delicately, as if it’s glass, on top of the table. Her hand pulls away, only to want to gravitate back towards it. She sits on her hands, grinning. “Sorry, Bonnie. You should really call Jamie. He sounds really cool.”

Bonnie gives her a kind smile and glances towards the phone. “Have you heard from him yet?”

Caroline purses her lips and thinks about changing the subject. “Once a day,” she says. It’s true enough. She texts him every waking hour asking if he’s okay, if he’s eating, if he’s still got all the bones in his body, if he wants to come home.

It’s not enough.

*

` how’s your dad? `

` tell him i’m sorry. `

` really sorry. `

*

She tries ringing him on every hour. He picks up after seven at night, always after seven at night. 

“Hey,” she says, hiding in a room at Elena’s house. Bonnie’s making dinner, from scratch, no magic; just three normal girls hanging out tonight. No one speaks of the tension hanging in the air, the unsaid accusations and questions that sit on her tongue and weigh her down. That filter of hers doesn’t make her feel any better than when she says what she wants to say, even if she doesn’t mean the implication behind it.

She escapes to Elena’s room, glancing around the photographs, looking at herself in the mirror, before she realises she doesn’t recognise anything in it any more. From the photographs to the bedspread to the things littering the floor. “Hey,” he mirrors, his voice a little quiet.

“How are you?” She moves to the door, standing in between the hallway and Elena’s room; an impasse.

“I’m good,” he says, and he sounds it. “I’ve been busy.”

She pauses, peering around the doorframe to see if Elena’s in sight. It’s not that she doesn’t trust her, it’s that Caroline doesn’t trust herself with keeping these beans un-spilled. “No spoilers?”

There’s a pause on his end; she can hear some shuffling, some ruffling, and she imagines him pressing his hand to the back of his neck, feeling the bone there, before dropping it. “I don’t want to get your hopes up.”

“Tyler -”

“ _Caroline_ ,” he says a little louder, the way he always says it. Chills run up her spine. She misses hearing it and seeing his expression, eyes soft and a little tug at his mouth. “I’m okay. I swear.”

“Ten fingers?”  
 “And ten toes.” There’s a chuckle to his voice as he inhales, “And maybe a wolf. I’m not quite sure yet.”

“Well, tails are trendy this season,” she says, voice perkier.

“I like to consider myself cool,” he says after a few beats. There’s laughter in his voice. It makes her smile, despite the ache she feels in her chest. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Yeah,” she says. “I think about you every day.”

“I think about you every second.”

*

` 11:11 make a wish, care. `

` My wish is for you to come home. `

` isn’t that breaking the wish code? telling me your wish. `

` Screw the code. I’m a rebel with a cause. `

*

She calls him at seven, and at every fifteen minute interval after that when he doesn’t pick up at the usual time of 7:08.

“Caroline?” Bonnie’s voice sounds impatient, but her face is soft. At her house, they’re attempting a sleepover; just a thing between the two of them. Elena’s invitation’s lost in the mail, along with all the tension that fills the rooms and suffocates her like a pillow. To make Bonnie feel normal, she needs to not feel like lighting anything on fire. Elena’s slipped into Caroline’s previous role; the irritation she brings forth in Bonnie is something Caroline figured she’d always be good at. “How about you let your phone charge?”

“Sorry,” Caroline says, her thumb pressing the disconnect button as she begins to hear Tyler’s pre-recorded voice. The phone is buried in her lap, disconnected from its charger sitting in the kitchen. “I just worry.”

“It’s okay, you know,” Bonnie says, irritation gone from her voice. She shuffles over onto the couch, thinks about touching Caroline, but doesn’t. She’s not glass. She won’t break. Caroline’s had blood on her face and a life slip from her hands and she didn’t break at all. “To worry about him. I’m worried, too.”

Caroline glances down. “I know,” she says. “I just worry he doesn’t think I’m thinking about him.”

Bonnie’s brows furrow, though she continues to smile, as if a little amused. “What do you mean? He’s Tyler. You’re Caroline. You’re a pair.”

“I know,” she looks up. “But he’s gone. Again. And last time I didn’t really - I left him one message, Bonnie. It took him forever to come home.”

“It’s not your fault -”

“No,” she says, voice defiant. “But I want him to come home, you know? I want him to be here. Now. Tomorrow. In the next minute. Does that make sense?”

“Plenty,” Bonnie says, her entire demeanor softening. She places a hand on Caroline’s knee, unafraid to touch her now. “It’s okay to miss him.”

“I know,” she says, staying quiet for a few moments. “And I know we said no boy talk so,” she inhales, back stretching, feeling the tension seep from her shoulders momentarily. She makes the point of tucking her phone beneath a couch cushion. “Manicures or Ryan Gosling?”

She still rings, though; picking that couch cushion apart for her phone, she calls at eight, nine, ten, only to stop around eleven at night and return to the routine at ten in the morning. Caroline knows he doesn’t pick up because he wants to hurt her; she calls him so he knows she’s thinking about him, so that she’s there in some capacity. When push comes to shove, Caroline Forbes never abandons a friend in need, even if there’s bad blood or fatal teeth between them.

*

` quit sending photos. makes me miss you a hell of a lot more. `

*

Caroline’s had enough.

Her dad’s being evasive. Her mother’s way too busy watching her like a hawk while attempting to juggle the freak circus this town has turned itself into that she figures she’ll take one thing out of the equation so her mom can _focus_. And Elena - Caroline’s shoulders are hunched in defeat; Elena’s business is Elena’s business. Sometimes Caroline thinks she has no room in it, especially when being in Elena’s business means Bonnie gives her the cold shoulder.

She leaves Mystic Falls in the middle of the day. She thinks of doing it at night, when no one can see her, where no one will miss witnessing her make a left instead of a right at the end of the street. She knows, deep down, that even if everyone’s eyes are on her, they don’t see her. So, she packs a bag, with a curling iron, a good book, and her phone charger, and leaves at one minute past noon.

*

` Marco? `

*

She arrives at a town a few hours outside of Virginia. The only thing that makes her stop in her search for Tyler is the fact that she doesn’t know which way to go. True love is all about allowing the heart to act as a guide; Caroline’s sure it’s unaware of all the roadblocks and renovations made to roads that no longer exist, just like her GPS.

The one lucky thing she has is Mason’s address book. She kept it after she found it among his junk in case she needed to call someone for Tyler - someone who knew this stuff. Apart from Jules, Caroline wanted him to have a support system that didn’t run when he shouted at her to do so. He needed someone fearless, someone much braver, someone more like him.

Fortunately, prank calling everyone in the address book worked. A lady by the name of Cara picked up, owning a diner in the middle of nowhere (or somewhere, Caroline’s too busy to read the street signs) who happens to have a monthly, furry problem, too. A good friend of Mason’s, she says, god bless his soul. Caroline pretends she’s a wolf, gaining her trust as wolves run in packs and lend a paw to anyone who happens to be like them. 

She feels bad for lying, honestly, especially when Cara, with her long, blonde hair and kind, brown eyes, seems to take her in and treat her like she’s known her for forever.

“So,” she says, after they’ve made their awkward conversation. Caroline’s surprised she hasn’t picked up on her lying yet, but something tells her Cara’s not the type to throw her in a cage and let her boyfriend break her skull with bullets. “Do you know where he is?”

“All I know is there’s a pack somewhere to the west,” she says, hands on the counter before them. The diner is empty. Caroline wonders if anyone ever comes here. “Mason liked to run a little wild,” she says, eyebrow arched, and, _ew_ , Mason might be hot, but that’s still gross.

“Did he ... Do they know him?”

“He spoke of them,” she says. “They’d be your best bet. The Lockwood name has a good reputation, you know.” It’s surprising to Caroline, despite Cara’s tone suggesting she should know this, like this is information everyone who is anybody knows. The Salvatores have a bad reputaiton following them just as she will, she predicts. Maybe a bad reputation is the curse of the vampire. Screw burning in the sun. “God bless Mason’s soul. I’ll miss staring into those lovely eyes.” Cara places her chin in her hands, staring dreamily off into the corner.

“If you see him ...”

“I’ll tell him to turn around and sniff you out,” Cara says with a kind smile. “So, stay for some free pie before you head over there. A friend of a Lockwood’s is a friend of mine, despite any historical wars or little white lies one tells,” she says, her voice doesn’t sound as though she’s irritated by Caroline’s fibs. “You’ll need your strength, even though I bet you have plenty of that resting on your bones.”

*

` daily text of the day, with a side of trivia: ordering a mchappy meal does not make you cool. but the toy makes it worth it. got a surprise for you, C. `

*

Caroline never thought she’d see the day where she called Damon for advice. _Damon_. Over Stefan. But considering Stefan’s less than a friend these days, too wrapped up in his bromance with Klaus, Caroline felt the only person she could turn to, who wasn’t Bonnie, was Damon.

“Why did you have to go and burn, like, everything Mason owned, Damon?” 

She can see him rolling his eyes, even when she’s talking to him over the phone. “ _Because_ he annoyed me, Barbie.”

“So?” She places her palm against her forehead. “You annoy me and you’re not dead.”

“ _Ditto._ ”

She sighs, loudly, a little put on, perhaps. There’s a part of her that hopes for Damon to feel bad, to somehow feel responsible for her plight. She’s stupid in thinking that. Damon doesn’t have feelings outside of anything that doesn’t have brown eyes, brown hair, and a face that echoes in his memories.

“Unlike vampires, Barbie, there are no _compasses_. Werewolves are _dumber_ than us, remember?” She can see him picking at his shirt, as if preening, and there’s a smirk on his face. She can feel it against her skin, like a ghost.

Her voice is softer, a little desperate, a little tired. “Then how am I supposed to find this pack?”

“Simple,” he says, pausing. “You _don’t_.”

*

` haven’t heard your angry messages on my voicemail in a while. call me, care. `

*

“When are you coming back?” Elena sounds exasperated, like she’s _angry_ at her for leaving. 

“When I find him,” Caroline snaps. She’s living in her car, trying to track a wolf pack that doesn’t leave footprints or a decent phone number with anyone Cara happens to tell her to call. 

“Caroline ...” Elena says it like it’s a warning or she’s irritating. Elena’s been finding her more and more irritating as the days go by, it seems.

“Look, I’m sorry, Elena, but I can’t be there right now. Tyler needs me. And I can’t stop ignoring him because you decide to give me the time of day.”

“That’s not fair, Caroline.”

“It is. It’s more fair than how you’ve been treating me lately. Or Bonnie,” she sighs. “I get that you’re with the Salvatores and everything, but I need you, Elena. I need my best friend. Do you think I want to drive to the middle of nowhere by myself?”

Elena stays quiet. Caroline can sense that she’s feeling a number of things; irritation at herself, guilt for abandoning Caroline _again_ , and wanting to curl up in her own hole, the one she goes into when she can’t be bothered calling Caroline up to tell her the latest big thing that’s happened in her life. Something has shifted in their friendship, placing her lower on her list of priorities, and sometimes Caroline finds herself resenting Elena for the positions she places her in.

“I’m sorry, but I’m stressed. I can’t find Tyler. My mom is _pissed_. And I just _need_ to fix this. I need to bring him home,” she clutches her cellphone in her hand, hears the thrum of the car beneath her as the cars on the road pass her. “This isn’t about you, Elena.”

“I know,” Elena breathes out. “I’m sorry, Caroline.” There’s a beat where Caroline feels her nerves clutch around her heart, pulling at every muscle in her body, as fighting with Elena has become a dance she knows the steps to, but she still doesn’t like it, even after all these years. “Call me if you need me, okay?”

*

` damon says you’re doing something stupid. `

` i can’t believe i just called damon. `

*

Two days later, and after abusing the hell out of one of the wolves, courtesy of Damon for finding a pack, she finds him.

He’s in a park, throwing a football around. She always expected him to be sitting in a cave, buried in the shadows, curled up in a ball or pulling the chains out of the walls. He looks like Tyler, the one who doesn’t wear his scars for the world to see.

She stands with her arms crossed, a smile on her face, as she watches him toss a ball with another guy. He’s thick-skinned, wearing a wife-beater, and she can only assume he’s another wolf. Tyler misses the ball, his back to her, and when he turns his feet stop immediately in their tracks.

She approaches him, despite being on enemy turf, and picks the ball up along her way. “Hey,” she says, then underarm throws the ball back to Tyler’s friend. He stands there, in the background, patiently, unlike anyone else she’s ever seen placed in the position as someone in the shadows, blurred out of focus as this isn’t his story. “So, football.”

He grins, looking a little embarrassed. “Yeah,” he says. He’s wearing that stupid do-rag, too. “It helps. I feel less stressed. Less tense.”

“Good,” she says. “I was worried you’d turned into a caveman or something.”

“No,” he laughs. “What are you doing here?”

“I got impatient.”

“Impatient?” his head leans closer to her, brows furrowed. Neither of their smiles slip from their mouths.

She shrugs, her turn to look embarrassed. She glances away for only a second, but finds herself unhappy. She’s spent so much time without the chance to see him that she doesn’t particularly want to waste any chances she has now. “My wish wasn’t coming true, so I thought I’d take fate into my own hands.”

“You’re not supposed to tell anyone your wish, Caroline.” He takes a step forward. “But I’m glad you’re here. Seriously.”

“I missed you.”

“I _missed_ you, Caroline.” He takes another step forward. She wants him to do something, to stop being so cautious, because a simple touch won’t kill her.

“You’re not ready to come home yet, are you?” she says, disappointment slipping into her voice.

He shakes his head, glancing away. “No,” he says. “I’m - I’m getting there. It’s working. Your dad - I’ve let him know. And he’s been helping me out, from Virginia, but I need more time to make sure I’m fixed.”

She frowns, “You don’t need to be fixed, Tyler.”

“I know,” he says. “I’m glad you came, though.”

Relaxing, she allows herself to smile. She falls back into that role as a girl, not a vampire, who loves to hear such things from a boy that she is incredibly crazy about. Tyler makes her feel as though her heartbeat isn’t just a cruel reminder of what she doesn’t have any more. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I don’t have to miss home any more.” Tyler closes the distance between them, wrapping his arms, hot around her shoulders, and pulls her to him. Caroline smiles, before she rolls her eyes, giving his shoulder a push.

“You smell _so_ bad.” 

His arms only tighten around her. “Get used to it, Forbes. I’m not letting go.”

*

` polo. `


End file.
